12 Condoms for Burning Man

michelleI’m bringing 12 condoms to Burning Man.

Does that number seem low?

I am going to be on playa for 11 days, after all.  That’s 1 condom per day.

But take into consideration that my lover won’t be attending Burning Man this year.

He’s my sure thing.

I’m not sure that I’ll be doing much mattress dancing this year.

Which is fine because I made up for it last year with several lovers and quite a bit of horizontal mambo.

And toys.

Plus I am sure that if I need to find *more* condoms on playa, that can be accomplished very easily.

The playa provides, after all.

So maybe I’ll get the plowing of my life.

Or maybe I’ll just re-virginize and stay celibate.

The point is, I have options.

cndms

Farewell Dolly

IMG_0170I just sold my lovely little tent trailer, Dolly.

I’ve had her for 10 years and used her on numerous camping trips.

Sadly it’s time to say goodbye.

What with my son buying a car (he’s 17) there’s no place to park my tent trailer at home.

I have wonderful memories of Dolly.

  • Eating pancakes with Jay and Mac (my white GSD) at Coastanoa.
  • Taking my boys to the Delta with Luke and going tubing.
  • Camping with my family on the Yuba River.

So many memories are wrapped up in that tent trailer.  It’s hard to let go.

Just cleaning her up for sale reminded me how much fun I’ve had with her.

Check out my baby:

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Coffee dates SUCK

Dating sucks.

I have never been on a coffee date that went well.

It’s as if investing only $2 in your first meeting somehow destines it for failure.

What can you learn about someone in a 30 minute conversation that’s going to drive you wild for them?

Nothing.

At best, it’s a polite conversation about things that don’t matter.

At worst, it’s an awkward conversation about things that don’t matter.

It’s a waste of everyone’s time.

I personally prefer to share a meal with someone. To share a drink and perhaps get relaxed enough to get the real conversation flowing.

My $1000 date was fantastic.

Not because my date spent $1000 or because the $500 bottle of wine made me want to cry tears of joy.

No, it was because I had a connection with my date. We were both relaxed and the conversation flowed freely.

But a coffee date? Who falls in love over their Starbucks?

I suppose this is just a rant about not having the opportunity to connect with anyone on a meaningful level and blaming the coffee date for the lack of connection.

The truth is people do fall in love over lattes.

Just not this woman.

But was it ORGASMIC?

On Sunday I took to the track, racetrack that is, and I did five laps around the Stockton 99 Speedway.

For those of you who have never been there, the Stockton speedway is teeny tiny. It’s all turns. I basically spent two minutes of my life in a car going fast while making a left-hand turn.

What kind of car was I in? Well to answer you in a highly scientific fashion, it was a green car.

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Was Cole Trickle there? Actually, he was, but he called himself Richie from Modesto and he was obviously so bored with having to drive people around the track that he barely said two words to me. Thank you Richie from Modesto.

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What Richie lacked and interpersonal skills, he made up for in sheer balls-to-the-walls driving.

OR AT LEAST IT FELT THAT WAY TO ME.

Was it thrilling? You bet. Was it ORGASMIC?

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It sure came effing close, but no Big Bang…which is probably good when you’re riding in a race car.

So without further adieu… a 2 minute video of me making left hand turns at a high rate of speed…

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor

photo-5While my sister was visiting, we had the brilliant idea of making margaritas at home.  I decided if we were having margaritas, we also needed to do shots and so I insisted we pick up a bottle of Patron to do shots with.

Now the thing you need to know about my sister and I growing up, is that she was the naughty one but I always got in trouble.  Somehow she always managed to skate free.  I claim that this is because I used to cover for her.  She claims she didn’t get in trouble because she was not naughty.  LIAR!

In any case, Lisa and I were about one deep in margaritas and two deep into shots when my sister asked me for another shot.

Sure thing.  Coming right up.

As I’m pouring it, my mom comes into the kitchen, looks at me and the tequila, and says, “Really Michelle?  Another one?” and walks out.

I’m left standing there feeling reprimanded and indignant.

I follow her.

“Just so you know, it’s for Lisa,” I tell her.

Yes, I was a tattletale.

But I felt a whole lot better and my inner child rejoiced for not being labeled the naughty one.

Just the enabler.

Ha ha!

[What I did after 2 shots of tequila and 2 margaritas is a different post]

I ate a bug

I ATE A BUG….

okay, I ALMOST ate a bug.

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Apparently, silkworm larvae are a Korean delicacy and some Shinola guests thoughtfully passed around a can. Don’t they look tasty?!?!

I thought I would be brave and eat one. I picked it up, screamed when I felt the cold clammy texture, and I threw it back into the can with a hearty, “God NO!”

Fellow Shinwegians were not so squeamish however….

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And bolstered by their own courageous act of culinary prowess, I attempted to eat one myself….

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The texture wasn’t horrible…, kind of like cold wet walnuts. As I bit into the larva however, the juice squeezed out of the bug and into my mouth.

And it tasted horrible – exactly like what you’d expect a bug to taste like – earthy and woody with a gross gritty texture.

So I spit it out into the fire and rinsed my mouth with some scotch….

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…. ah, MUCH better!

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!

Burning Man 2015 vs Burning Man 2016

R-evolutionBurning Man is ALMOST here and I am getting really excited about making the trip to Black Rock City.

It feels like just a few weeks ago I was suffering through Burning Man 2015.

Nothing went as planned for my burn last year.

I got ditched then dumped.

So I’ve made the executive decision this year to NOT PLAN A THING.

Oh sure, I know I’ll hang out at Ali Bar-Bar getting my drink on with friends.

And I’ll hit up Retro Frolic to get my Cock Sucking Certification.

And the Sauna Dome is a definite.

But everything else? It’s all up in the air.

If you know me, then you know that this is HUGE.

Because I’m a planner. Literally. IRL. My job is event planning.

Last year I took 16 travel bins with me with all my gear. This year I have 6 bins.

What a difference a year makes.

Since I’m not into EDM, I’ve gotten a few tips from friends on where to go to dance to 70s, 80s, and 90s tunes.

And, of course, I want to see art.

Lots and lots of art.

I also want to visit the Temple.

This year I plan to watch it burn.

Last year I was discouraged to attend the Temple burn.

And I deeply regret staying behind.

The bottom line is I BASICALLY CAN’T FUCK UP THIS BURN because nothing will make it as bad as last year.

Although I just found out my lover won’t be attending this year.

Sad face.

Regardless, it’s going to be a great burn.

They say the playa provides and I think this year, it’ll give me the exact experience that I need.

The universe has a way of working out like that.

The ultimate three-way

So.

I have developed a wicked new affection for two British actors:

samSam Heughan (technically, I think he’s Scottish) and

tomTom Hiddleston

I know. I know.

I’m not usually such a fan of pretty boys.

But these two really get me going.

In my dreams, this is my ideal three-way.

I can’t believe I just said that.

Usually I like my men a little more rough and tumble with shorter hair and tattoos.

Guys like Daniel Craig and Gerard Butler.

Guys who look like they would chop a quart of wood, skin a deer, and build a shed and still have enough energy left over to really plow my fields.

So I did what any girl would do.

I downloaded a movie with Tom Hiddleston in it.

Henry IV.

Which turns out to be a Shakespearean flick.

They were speaking the Queen’s English, but my ability to follow was limited by my exhaustion and unwillingness to focus enough to mentally engage the topic.

Scratch that.

So I downloaded “The Deep Blue Sea” which turned out to be a rather depressing love story which was more focused on Rachel Weisz’s dramatic chops than Tom Hiddleston’s acting talent and incredible beauty.

Strike two.

Obviously, not dating is getting to me because I feel COMPELLED to read/watch love stories.

Sam Heughan and Tom Hiddleston are just fueling the fire.

And in case you haven’t seen this, here’s one more reason to fall in love with Tom Hiddleston:

I got escorted out of Target

michelleMany years ago, when I was pregnant with Duncan, I went on a shopping trip to Target with my mom.

We picked up some supplies, mostly baby stuff, and a nursing bra.

Nursing bras have little hooks that you can undo and fold the fabric away from your nipples allowing you to feed your baby.

The nursing bra I bought came in a box. I opened the box when we got to the car and discovered that the bra in the box was different than the bra advertised on the box.

So I went in to exchange it.

Only they didn’t have another bra in the style that I wanted.

Fine, a return then.

But since I had paid with a combination of a gift certificate and a credit card, Target refused to do a return for me.

I don’t know why, but this struck me the wrong way and I got upset and ACTUALLY SHOVED THE COMPUTER MONITOR that the employee was using.

I believe there was a little back and forth between the employee and I that riled me up, but for the life of me I don’t remember the details.

The employee called security who took one look at my big belly and quietly walked me to the door. With my mom following closely behind.

Oh God, the embarrassment.

Later, I called Target with an apology for the employee.

I’m telling this story because my friend Mel shared a similar story of someone heckling her at a Swap Meet and it made me think of this incident.

I just want to tell her – even nice girls can be bitches sometimes.

LOVE-HATE

michelle1Today I’m going to talk about something we women don’t often discuss:

Our LOVE-HATE relationship with our beauty salon.

Oh sure, we love the end result – that perfect honey hue, the softness, the body that gives our hair bounce.

But do we love the process?

No.

Going to the salon stresses me out.

To begin with, stepping into the salon feels like I’m stepping into a beauty magazine – only everyone looks stylish EXCEPT me.

Me? I’m in capris and a tank top.

I look like the cat lady from Winnemucca who just got out of the house to take “a little off the top, dearie.”

And how come all the stylists look like Victoria’s Secret models?

Can I just get one who is over 40 and has a mom bod?

I’m surrounded by a sea of young women with glossy hair, and beautifully accessorized black strapless maxi dresses.

Nothing makes me feel uglier.

So I sit in my chair and pretend I’m comfortable while my stylist puts 50 foils in my hair making me look like a deranged steampunk lion.

HATE!

But in the end, the foils come out and I oooh and aaah over the color.

And then she cuts and styles my hair.

And I look in the mirror that once held the reflection of a worn out, tired, single mom in need of a style overhaul, and things don’t seem quite as bad as they did before.

In fact, I look nice.

So maybe I’m no Victoria’s Secret model.

But what stares back at me from my stylist’s mirror isn’t half bad.

And she’s real (no Photoshop).

And in the moment, I feel pretty again.

LOVE!